Harry Potter and the Bare Witches Project
by monkeymouse
Summary: 25 years or so later... Harry and Hermione own their high-placed Ministry positions to Cho's daughter, her friends, and their crusade to right Voldemort's legacy...


Harry Potter and the Bare Witches Project

Time: a week in October, 6 months after the end of Epilogue 2 of "Or Die Trying"

Chapter 1-A Cold

Harry Potter was trying to sit up in bed, but his daughter Chinhua threw her body across his in great sobs.

"Oh daddy. Poor dear daddy! Don't die!"

He tried to push her off, but had a hard time budging her. "I wish I could stop it, dear little Chinnie…"

"I'm not THAT little!"

"Let me get the line out, will you? I can't stop the cold hard hand of fate from taking me away from my beloved family…"

Cho Chang slapped a paper thermometer onto his lightning-scarred forehead. "I hate to interrupt the matinee, but I really need to check this before we go."

"But HE'S the one that's going!" Chinhua wailed. "Whatever shall we do without him?!"

"We'll find that out in about forty or fifty years. According to this his fever's broken, so it's bed-rest and force fluids for a couple of days. It's just a cold."

"And we were just having a bit of fun," Harry answered.

"I know, my dears, but life goes on, despite the occasional cold. Save your strength for the end of the week, Harry."

"Nudge nudge wink wink," Chinhua grinned.

"CHINNIE!" both her parents said in unison.

Six months earlier, when Ginevra Weasley Potter brought a divorce action against Harry, their marriage was already virtually over. With their three children grown and living their own lives, Ginny's possessive jealousy began to escalate, even though there was no cause; Harry was faithful to her, although gradually becoming more distant and feeling like a stranger in his own house. Finally she had an attorney write up divorce papers, and Harry just went along with whatever the decree said, just to have it over with.

The day that happened, he went on a whim to seek out Cho Chang, the first love of his adolescent life. He found her, and Chinhua, a daughter they had created 25 years earlier during one spontaneous passionate night before his engagement to Ginny. Harry immediately moved in with Cho and Chinhua.

He said the other day that, as long as he was getting over this cold, he might as well take another stab at setting down his memoirs, since he's been getting offers for years to do just that, but he still felt that he either needed a nap or a dose of Pepper-Up—or both—to be up for it.

"Memoirs?" Cho had asked. "Harry, we know you've accomplished a lot but you're not that old. You really think you've done all there is to do?"

"I can't *koff koff* imagine what else there is to do. Killed the Dark Lord, was an Auror, and found you once again."

"Well, if a dragon comes knocking, just don't answer the door."

"I'll try, Chinnie, but dragons seem to come looking for me."

"Just don't answer when they do. You need your rest." Cho kissed Harry on the scarred forehead. "Back soon, dearest."

Once the ladies had gone, Harry contemplated the changes in his life in the six months since Ginny threw him out, with the divorce becoming final and official at the end of this week.

So strange, Harry thought. When I stop to look at it, I've been homeless most of my life. From birth to the day Voldemort killed my parents, I actually had a home but I never really knew it. From there, Dumbledore took me to the Dursleys; that didn't work out too well, but I suppose I was too young to understand everything. Certainly didn't know about Petunia's jealous hatred of my mother for being a witch; not until I was on my way out the door. Then Grimmauld Place, and again it was someone else's house; not mine. Sirius let me stay there, but the house itself didn't welcome me; it felt as alien at times as living with the Dursleys. Hogwarts was, well, a boarding school; that's never home, unless you're on the faculty. And, come to think of it, I don't think many of them were happy to be at Hogwarts. Seventh Year I was homeless thanks to Voldemort; even after Voldemort. Kingsley asked me to be an Auror, and then I was REALLY homeless; every assignment in a different part of the world. By the time I finally got back to England, Ginny was out of school and champing at the bit to get married. And I suppose I was too, but I really can't remember it. I must have wanted it; I must have loved her; but that feels off now, like a Memory Modification gone bad. Even living in Grimmauld Place with her and the kids, we all seemed to be living there at arms' length from each other. I guess we did the best we could; that's a pretty pathetic thing to put on a tombstone. I thought I was happy; I thought we all were. But there was always something missing, and I didn't know what. And I thought I felt really at home for the first time in, well, ever.

Until Cho tapped me on the shoulder.

Cho.

God, I was such a prat! A nervous, pompous, strutting little prat. And Cho was… perfect. The way she looked, the way she flew… It was our only match when we met, and I could tell even then she was better than me. Only thing that saved the match was Malfoy dressing up as a Dementor. Maybe I should invite him to the wedding…

Cho was right. I've always had a family, one or another, but I've never had a home. Until now. So strange that she and Chinhua popped into my life, and I moved in with them and I've been living out of a suitcase and it hasn't been odd at all. Well, my whole life has been more than a bit odd, if it comes to that. But here we are, and I've never felt better—apart from this damned cold.

Enough putting things off. As long as I'm stuck here all day, I should be putting this down on paper.

He wanted to set these thoughts down on paper partly because wizarding publishers had been asking about his life story all along, but also because some of his old Hogwarts friends still took Ginny's side... NO! This was not going to be like one of those trashy Muggle celebrity books about gossip and name-calling and rich people acting like children. I wanted to do right by Ginny and the kids in the divorce; they all deserved that, and so did Arthur and Molly.

He took out a Quick Quote Quill to transcribe his dictation, but couldn't get more than a few words out before triggering another coughing jag. He erased the false start, then tried again, but this time was interrupted by a knock on the door.

Harry never hesitated to open the door to a knock since he moved in with Cho. She and Chinhua saw to it that all their friends knew that Harry Potter lived there now, but the word never seemed to get around to the people in Harry's old life; that was how he wanted it. He and Ginny had what Ron Weasley called "a troll-sized row" before she threw him out of his own house, but once he met Chinhua he knew he had no reason to go back to his old life. Things seemed simpler now, anyway; the days of his youthful heroics were fading into foggy memory as he rebuilt his life. The memoir was as much a chronicle of his past as a way of working through where to go next…

Harry opened the door without a word, and nothing was said for a minute as the two men—one middle aged, one much older—stared at each other.

"Arthur?"

"Harry?"

To be continued in Chapter 2

Harry Potter and the Bare Witches Project

Chapter 2-In-Laws

Harry opened the door to see Arthur Weasley, who he invited in after an awkward pause. Arthur looked especially displeased, and Harry assumes it's because Arthur had to walk up five flights of stairs.

"Nonsense, Harry; the day I can't handle a few steps… Actually, the leg is acting up again a bit, so I Apparated."

"A little risky in this part of town, isn't it?"

"Nobody was here to see me."

"Oh, then in the street you didn't see…"

"No, I did not, thanks be to Merlin."

"Arthur, listen to me, please. I know that things didn't turn out the way you and Molly wanted. They certainly didn't turn out the way I wanted, either. But the bottom line is that things are now the way they are because of Ginny; this was all her doing. SHE put ME out!" He had a coughing fit.

"Are you alright, boy?"

"Yes," Harry breathed heavily. "Just a cold that took hold of me. I'm taking it easy today."

"You're still rather young to talk of taking things easy."

"We can't all have your iron constitution, Arthur."

"This isn't how I wanted to test it. The truth is, well, I'm on a self-imposed errand. The Wizengamot is having a meeting and I have a summons for someone at this address. I offered to take it over myself, mainly just because I wanted to take a look at the place. It's not as if you've ever asked Molly and me round for tea."

"Wait a minute, Arthur. You dropped the important bit in my lap and went breezing down the road. What meeting and who's the summons for?"

Arthur reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out an official-looking envelope, of a kind that Harry had seen many times before. He saw the Wizengamot was summoning Chinhua. "Arthur, when is this? You know, don't you?"

"Yes, I made a point of asking around. It's in four days. And, honestly, I couldn't imagine what this could possibly be about; do you know? I tried to find out—not for your sake, just for my own curiosity—"

"And Molly would never forgive you if you hadn't asked about it."

"Yeh, that's true enough. Well, I didn't get all the details but it's apparently about a violation of the International Secrecy Statutes."

Harry had another coughing fit; rather, he was about to burst out laughing, but covered it with a coughing fit. "Sorry, Arthur, but are you sure?"

"I'm quite sure that the Wizengamot is quite sure. There have been multiple breaches and they have been traced back to her."

"But, how? What kind of breaches?"

"Well, I, erm, have no idea what this is all about, really. It's all to do with Muggletech; they brought in a whole group of youngsters who know how to work those whaddya callems—confusers…" Arthur mimed wiggling fingers over a keyboard.

"You mean computers?"

"That's it."

Harry gestured around the room. "Well, you don't see any here, do you?"

"Don't try playing that game with me, laddie. It could be hidden in a box, or Transfigured to look like a plant. The point is, the Ministry boffins who know about these things found some messages and traced them back to your… your little…"

"Arthur, you're as close to a father as I've ever had in my life, and I truly love you for that, but if you're about to talk about Chinhua, please choose your words carefully."

"Ginny said you had something going on with Chang two years before she threw you out!"

"Arthur, I swear that at that point, it was completely in Ginny's mind! The day I came here looking for Cho was the first time I'd seen her or even said her name in twenty-five bloody years!"

"If that's so, then how did you know to come here?"

"Last known address; that's the way an Auror operates, isn't it?"

"Are you saying that Ginny throws you out, and the first place you go is the Ministry to ask after Chang?"

"Look, you—you've got it all wrong!" Harry had another coughing jag, which required him to take a deep breath before continuing. When he did, his voice wasn't much above a whisper. "I don't know why I fell for Ginny exactly—I mean I'd been interested in her at the time, but she was chasing after—"

"I remember that time, and now you had better watch what you say about my daughter."

"The point is, I remember when it happened; it was just before Dumbledore was murdered." Both men sat quietly for a minute, remembering the events of that time in their own way. "I never laid eyes on Cho until I played opposite Ravenclaw in my third year. We sort of met on the pitch."

"And?"

"And at first I had nothing for or against her except as the opposite Seeker. We'd never played against each other before that but I played that match over again in my head that night, and many nights after."

"You mean as a Seeker?"

"Yes, and no. I was thirteen, Arthur; you should remember what things were like at that age."

"We all do, lad," Arthur sighed. "So what happened after that?"

"Nothing, really, for a year. The rest of the year was mostly about Sirius. Our paths didn't cross after the one match, except as I said, in dreams."

"Including hers?"

"Well, I didn't find out until much later, but… yes. I fancied Cho, and as it turned out, she fancied me."

"Never heard a word of this."

"Well, after Sirius came and went, there was the Tri-Wizard. And, between the Tasks and the other things going on in addition to classes, I found out about the Yule Ball. By the time I got my nerve up to ask Cho, she'd already been asked. By Cedric."

Arthur sighed and shook his head; "Bad business, that."

"Bad timing, too. I'd see them around the school, and off by myself I'd be eating my own liver out wishing she was with me. But she was happy; I mean, they were happy, and that made me feel mad at myself for being mad at them. Does this make any sense?"

Arthur sighed and looked Harry straight in his green eyes for the first time that day. "It makes complete sense, my boy. That explains a lot, after the Third Task."

"When Cedric died, I didn't know what to say or what to do. I was an infant when my parents died, so I never really understood it. I knew I wanted to say something to Cho, but I had no idea what. Craziest thing in the world was that Dolores Umbridge really brought us together. Her and Argus Filch."

"Filch? Was he part of Dumbledore's Army?"

"That was something different. It was a Saturday morning, and I'd gone out to the Owlery to send something, and Cho was already up there, doing the same thing. We chatted for awhile, about Quidditch, I think, then Filch bursts in, yelling that I'd sent away for dungbombs or something. Cho immediately stood up to Filch and vouched for me. It's like she was trying to rescue me! Last thing I expected."

"And after that?"

"Nothing really, until Umbridge got so terrible that we started up the Army. Cho was practically at the head of the line. She came to every meeting, and was the first one to master the Patronus. It was making her feel lots better after losing Cedric, but when her Prefect betrayed the Army to Umbridge, well, I couldn't forget that and I couldn't forgive it. She couldn't side with me against her friend; when I say it like that now it makes me sound like the bastard I must have been."

"You were in a hard place, Harry, but you stayed loyal to the Army."

Harry sighed and rested his head in his hands. "I was loyal, Arthur, but I was also in love—still, after all that. Took about a year to get over that. Meanwhile, Ginny came along."

"Same song, second verse, eh?"

"No, Arthur. It was completely different. With Cho in Hogwarts I felt butterflies in my stomach; best way to put it. I was nervous and happy at the same time. When Ginny bothered to notice me, I felt what I called the Chest Monster. Much fiercer than butterflies. You know the rest."

"And that was it for Cho?"

"No; it was crazy. She came back the next year for the Battle against the Dark Lord. She'd already had her Seventh Year; she didn't have to come, but Neville put out the call and she answered. No hesitation."

"Did you still feel anything for her?"

"At first all I felt was gob-smacked; she was the last witch I expected to see. Of course, the battle was on and we didn't talk over old times. Didn't see her until years later, after she'd retired from professional Quidditch."

"I, erm, don't remember that much about her as a player…" Arthur began.

"Well, by all accounts she was the backbone of Tutshill for five straight seasons. I was out of the country on Ministry business for most of that time. I did bump into Cho at Gringotts, just before I proposed to Ginny, as it happens."

"And?"

"And there's honestly nothing to tell, Arthur. We had dinner, we talked about old times, and then I went down to the Burrows."

"All this is well and good, Harry, but I haven't been on this earth for all these years for nothing. I remember that day in the Burrows when you and Ginny made it official, but there's still a missing part of the story that explains why I came looking for…" Arthur started to reach into his pocket for the envelope.

"Chinhua Chang", Harry interrupted him.

"Exactly. There's still a missing piece of the puzzle, which has to connect you on the day you proposed to my only daughter, and the day I find you here where you have no business to be!"

"Damn it, Arthur, I have business here!"

"You're delivering messages, too?"

Harry had jumped to his feet; now he had another coughing fit and fell back into his chair. "Arthur," he said weakly, "did you ever love anyone beside Molly?"

"No, I did not."

"You're lucky, then. You found the one you were looking for on the first go. Most of us have to sort those things out. Ginny was like that; had quite a string of boyfriends before she got to me."

Harry half-expected Arthur to bark at him again; instead the older man shook his head sadly. "We both know about that."

"With Cho, things have been different, then and now. By the time I met her I'd had my fill of being the Boy Who Lived and having everyone treat me as such. Cho didn't do that, and it took me a while to figure out why. And the answer was that she liked me. Nothing about fame or legends or parents or the Dark Lord. She wanted us to be friends, and after a while I wanted that too. Yes she's brilliant and beautiful, and teaches me things without it feeling like she's teaching me. It's more like, like we're walking down the same path together at the same time, and, Arthur, I'm sure you know, that is the best feeling in the world. Maybe I was in love with Ginny for a time, even for years, but it was like a potion that eventually wears off. Through all the years, even when I was on the other side of the world, I never forgot Cho, and now I know I never will."

Just then, the front door clicked and swung open; the two men rose as the two women entered the apartment. The younger one dropped her bundles on the divan and rushed to Harry. "Feeling better?"

"Just a bit; I may need another day or two to shake this. Ladies," Harry interrupted himself, "this is Arthur Weasley, one of the first friends I had in the Wizarding World."

"Harry's spoken of you quite often, and with great admiration," Cho smiled, with an automatic bow.

"And those of us who follow Quidditch certainly know the name of Cho Chang; a pleasure to meet you. But I'm afraid I came here on an errand, and I have to carry it out. So…" He turned to Chinhua; "would you be Chinhua Chang?"

"Yes, sir…"

Arthur pulled the envelope from his pocket and handed it to her. As he did, he looked into her eyes through the glasses she wore. The glasses were as familiar to Arthur as Chinhua's green eyes. Arthur took a step back and gave a curious smile. "The last piece of the puzzle," he said as if to himself. Then, in a louder voice; "This is an official notice from the Ministry of Magic, and you would do well to read it and comply. I expect I'll see you all in a few days. Harry."

And with that Arthur turned and walked out the door.

To be continued in Chapter 3

Harry Potter and the Bare Witches Project

Chapter 3-The Bare Witches Project

"Do you know what this is about?" Cho asked her daughter.

"I think so. Let's all find out."

She broke the seal on the envelope; a letter rose out of the envelope and began reciting:

"Dear Miss Chang,

We have received intelligence that you and certain others have been in contact with Muggles using computers for the past three months. You and your confederates are of age to be subject to the International Confederation of Wizards' Statute of Secrecy and have been determined to have violated that statute. Therefore, Recipient is hereby required to appear at the Ministry of Magic Friday morning of this week at 9 a.m. to give testimony to the Wizengamot at a disciplinary hearing on the charge of Improper Use of Magic. Failure to appear as requested will be considered a violation subject to arrest and criminal penalty."

The letter tried to keep speaking but Chinhua jammed it back into its envelope. "So; dinner, then?"

"You know we're not going to leave it at that," Cho said. "What on earth is this all about?"

"Yes," Harry added, "and what do the Secrecy Statutes have to do with it?"

Chinhua went to a rolltop desk and opened it to reveal one of several desktop computers the family had. "It'll probably be easier to show you as well as tell you," Chinhua said as she booted it up. "This is an archive version."

"Of what?" Harry asked.

"Some months ago, I was talking with some of my mates, and we were talking about the Dark Lord's Diaspora. And we realized that it was a time when countless witches were disowned, abandoned by wizarding society just because they weren't Pureblood. We figured that there had to be magical folk out there who didn't even know it, or who actually did magic without knowing how or why. So we put up a series of websites."

"Advertising for witches?"

"Something like that, mum, but these were for Muggles who didn't know they were only part Muggle. I mean, logically, there have to be a lot of them out there, correct?"

"So you just put up a web page?"

"Not quite, daddy. We teased it along by building a major page, but putting four others in front of it and four more after it. That was to give the curiosity seekers a chance to drop out, and those who might be surfing the web with bad intent. It started with asking questions like 'Have you ever seen into the future?' 'Can you make things happen mysteriously?' We didn't explain anything until after the main web page, by which time we figured we were down to people who wanted answers. Here it is."

Chinhua opened a document; the top of the screen had a banner that read: The Bare Witches Project. Below it was a picture of a half-dozen young women—Chinhua among them—smiling into the camera. They were naked from the waist up and had their arms strategically folded over their chests.

"Oh dear," Harry muttered, blushing.

"It's a joke," Chinhua said.

"You'll notice we're not laughing," Cho replied.

"But the links continue on without pictures, and we post the responses."

"What responses?"

"It's the reason we put this page up. We started hearing from online Muggles who said "This explains why I understand animals talking" and "Sometimes I can see the future". They're Magical Folk just like us; don't you think they need a place to belong?"

"No wonder the Ministry got upset," Harry said.

"How do you know, Harry?"

"That's why Arthur was here; he told me the Ministry had some computer people trying to figure out what your posts were all about. This could be dangerous."

Chinhua stamped her foot. "But WHY? We know there was a Dark Lord Diaspora, and apparently the Ministry's done sweet sod-all about it since then. We've lost a generation of witches and wizards! Shouldn't that mean something?"

"Let me think," Cho said. She paced the room, then noticed the pen was still transcribing what it heard. Harry was probably dictating his memoirs when Arthur interrupted. She cast a Finite on the quill, then went back to the others.

"We have three full days between now and Friday to prepare for the Wizengamot. We won't defy them; we'll meet them with truth and strength. But it would help to know what they know. The sooner we know what the Ministry knows, the better we can figure out what the next step will be."

"Chinhua, you said there were nine sites in this, er, Project?"

"The operative word is "were", daddy; those of us who put up the sites and maintain them noticed about a week ago that they were all being blocked. Frankly, I expected something like this."

"Thank you for the warning, dear. But now we have to get out in front of whatever the Ministry knows. Tomorrow, you need to track down all of your friends in this project; let them know about Friday, and get hard copies of everything you have so far—especially any testimonials from Muggles with magical ability. I'll go to the Ministry tomorrow and see what I can find out."

"Can the others come, too?"

"If the Ministry knows about them, I expect they'll have gotten their own letters. Let's wait and see if they've been summoned too."

"Can I help?"

"Yes, Harry, but not tomorrow. Take another day off your feet, and then we'll carry on. By then we'll have gathered enough information, and you'll have gathered your strength back."

"Should've been a Mediwitch."

"I like having just the one patient," Cho smiled, giving Harry a soft and lingering kiss.

"Right; I'll start dinner then." Chinhua ducked into the kitchen.

"Not that I object," Harry smiled when Cho broke the kiss, "but what brought this on?"

Cho showed Harry the parchment that the Quick Quote Quill had written on, while Harry talked with Arthur. Talking about Cho. "Planning to put this in your memoirs, Harry?"

"It's the most important part."

To be continued in Chapter 4

Harry Potter and the Bare Witches Project

Chapter 4-Magical Creatures

The next morning, Harry and Cho emerged from their bedroom, hand in hand like honeymooners, only to find that Chinhua was already up and gone. She'd left a note on the keyboard: "Couldn't wait about indefinitely for you lazy louts, so I got an early start on my assignment. I should be back with printouts before sunset. Happy hunting."

Harry and Cho just smiled and shook their heads. This was so typical of their daughter: headstrong yet charming about it. It seemed nobody could stay mad at her, whatever she'd done. "Well, that's a talent she'll need at the hearing," Harry said, finishing his tea. "This infraction's about as serious as it gets."

"I understand, but don't you think things may be changing? Remember what happened with the Express."

Cho was talking about a controversial case from two years earlier. A committee of witches and wizards, headed up by Filius Flitwick, made a proposal to the Ministry that the Hogwarts Express needed to be changed. They argued that the Express, enchanted to look like a steam locomotive, might have been compliant with the Secrecy Statutes in the 19th century; now, however, it was among the last such locomotives in England, and only called attention to itself. They sought to change it into a mag-lev "bullet train". The debate was long, intense, and at times rather fiery. In the end, it came down to a vote from Draco Malfoy, who declared that he had ridden through the Chunnel on a Muggle version of the train and pronounced it "perfectly adequate for the job of going to and from Hogwarts." The new version of the Hogwarts Express remained a tribute to Flitwick, who was exhausted by the effort of such a large transfiguration and did not live to see its maiden voyage.

Harry sighed. "We can only hope there'll be a possible consensus this time. Changing the Express was just a matter of appearance; this is the Ministry changing itself, if it happens."

"It must happen. I thought about it all night; well, part of all night," she smiled, taking Harry's hand and kissing it. "Lives were changed forever by the Diaspora, and we need to bring back as many as we can. It's simple justice."

"For something like this, justice isn't exactly simple. Are you sure you can't take me along today? Isn't there something I can do?"

"Chinhua and I need you to rest up today, and knock that cold right out of you. We'll need you at full speed when we find out where to go from here. I know you're impatient, dearest, and I sympathize; the number of times my mother called me her 'impatient little Horse' when I was growing up…" Cho stopped and smiled, remembering.

"Care to let me know your plan?"

"I'd rather not yet. If it works out, fine; but I have alternatives if they don't. You'll know everything when I get back."

"After the match, then."

"Today isn't a one-off; it's just the first match in a finals for the Cup."

"With the highest stakes."

"I'll be back soon as I can, my love." They kissed, and she left.

As she walked down the five flights to the street, she remembered her Quidditch days at Hogwarts. She recalled her Ravenclaw team captain Roger Davies's advice: "A good Seeker needs to keep their strategy at front of mind, but also have two more strategies in their back pocket if they need to make a change. If you shift strategies a little too soon or a little too late, you might as well just throw away the Quaffle." She never thought that this advice would be useful outside of a Quidditch pitch, but this time her daughter's freedom was at stake.

When she got to Whitehall and the Ministry of Magic, she went immediately to Level 7 and the Office of Magical Games and Sports. Absolutely nobody was surprised that a veteran Quidditch player would be going there. She stopped to chat with some old friends and fans of her flying for Tutshill; part of her plan was to establish herself and be seen at Magical Games and Sports, before taking the elevator to Level 4 and the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Logically, she should have gone to the second level and asked at the Improper Use of Magic Office to determine the charge against Chinhua, but that would have been too obvious and would have set off alarm bells that Cho was trying to gather information about her daughter's case. This way, she could find what she wanted to know without calling too much attention.

She wandered through the stacks and corridors of the Office, usually not being noticed at all by either wizards or goblins who worked there. Like most bureaucracies, the Ministry employees tried to look busy even when there was little to be busy about. But she remembered a piece of information that she'd read in the Daily Prophet some years ago, about an old schoolmate who had been given an assignment in Magical Creatures. If this woman couldn't help, Cho could at least count on her to be discreet; and, if she could help…

Finally, in a nondescript corner behind some nondescript shelves of documents, there was a door marked Supplemental Research: Hermione Weasley. Cho tapped on the door, and a voice inside said "Come."

Cho let herself into an office that seemed smaller than her bedroom. A single candle, which burned without being consumed, was the only source of light. Shelves with piles of papers lined three of the four walls. At the center of the room, a middle-aged woman was hunched over some papers; she didn't look up but was intent on reading something and stopping only to make calculations and scribble notes in the margins of her papers.

She kept her head down, working away, and Cho waited a minute before she interrupted: "Can I pull you away, Hermione?"

Hermione looked up, at first happily. "CHO!" she smiled; then her eyes narrowed. "Why are you here?"

"I'm not here about Ginny, I assure you of that. I don't know if you've taken her side, but I need to speak to you about your work, and that's all."

Hermione let out a sigh. "Thank Heaven for that. Ginny can be a bit, erm, difficult." Hermione looked around the office. "There used to be another chair in here, somewhere; ah yes." The other chair was behind her, piled high with folders and documents. Hermione spelled them onto the floor and moved the chair over to Cho. "Can I send for something to drink?"

"Not just now, thanks. Erm, you're looking well."

In fact, Hermione now looked her middle age. She had put on weight, there was grey in her hair, and she seemed rather matronly, although (as Cho would find out) her two children were already grown and gone.

"It's good of you to lie, Cho, but I know myself well enough. And you've changed hardly at all!"

"Thanks; my mum got me into some good habits while I was still at Hogwarts and I never gave them up."

"Is it some Chinese thing, then?"

"It's a wizarding version of tai chi, yes."

"I think I ought to look into that."

"Hermione, there's something serious that I need to talk with you about. This is more important than diet and exercise and old times at Hogwarts. I remember reading about you in the Prophet, when the Ministry gave you an assignment about researching wizards and witches who had been banished by the Ministry under the Dark Lord. The Diaspora."

Hermione's face fell like a stone into a pond. Her mood fell as well; whatever happiness she had at seeing an old acquaintance from Hogwarts was gone. "Yes," she said in a low voice; "terrible business, that."

"I have to know; did the Ministry keep any records of the Diaspora, or have you been able to reconstruct what happened?"

Hermione's eyes narrowed. "What's this all about really?"

"I can't tell you without swearing you to secrecy, and I mean absolute secrecy. You can't tell Ron or your family or anybody."

"This isn't something Dark, is it?"

"Absolutely NOT! I just need to know the names of those who were banished and any records of what happened to them."

"But why?"

"Do you swear to keep the secret?"

"Just how dodgy is this? Don't take me wrong; I don't mind dodgy if it's for a good cause."

"This is very dodgy, and it's for a very good cause."

Hermione sat for a minute, staring at Cho in an unnerving way. All at once she stood and stuck her hand out to Cho.

"You fought in the Battle of Hogwarts when you didn't have to; you were graduated and well out of it. It's only fair that I trust you now. You can count on me to keep your secret."

They shook hands; then Cho told Hermione about Chinhua's website, about the discovery online of witches and wizards who never knew why they could do magic, and about the summons to appear before the Wizengamot on the coming Friday. Hermione listed with a stunned look on her face.

"This is amazing," she said, leaning back in her chair. "If only I could put your records together with mine…"

"Has the Ministry been keeping track?"

"Actually, no. I've been spending the past few years trying to make up for the Ministry's failure to keep track. I've tried to reconstruct who was banished by the Dark Lord, or who escaped, or even who was executed. It's all been one damnable mess!" Hermione jumped up, looking as if she wanted to Obliviate her own office, but instead just turned and pounded her fist on a stack of documents. "It must be obvious what the Ministry thinks of all this work they've given me. That's a joke, calling it "work"; it just keeps me occupied, while the Ministry pretends it's doing something. They give me no information at all, and I can only chase down so much on my own, with the Ministry saying that the Diaspora falls under "Magical Creatures"! Not even thinking of them as wizards and witches anymore! I get so tired of this place sometimes."

"If you don't mind, can I see what you've got so far?"

Hermione gestured toward a drawer in her desk; a series of heavy tumblers sounded as the drawer was unlocked. The drawer slid open, and she took out a manila folder.

"This is it?" Hermione nodded. Cho looked through the papers, feeling as outraged as Hermione but trying to keep it hidden. She handed the folder back to Hermione. "I should be able to send you my daughter's research notes tonight, tomorrow the latest. Would that be helpful?"

Tears came to Hermione's eyes. "It… it would be a Godsend."

"Don't go overboard, Hermione. This is to restore wizards and witches born in the Diaspora, and give them the chance to claim their true identities."

"Then you do understand…"

"Because my daughter's head is in the noose. She has her hearing Friday morning. I don't dare ask you to help…"

Hermione squeezed both of Cho's hands in hers. "Whether you ask or not, you've got it."

"We can talk more later. Expect the owl tonight. Maybe more than one, depending how much paperwork I come up with."

Hermione was speechless; she fell back into her chair, a radiant smile on her face while tears rolled down her cheeks.

Cho headed for home, knowing exactly how Hermione felt.

That evening, Cho told Harry and Chinhua about her day at the Ministry. The more she talked, the more incensed she became. "I saw Hermione's work! She's been at it for years and you know what she has to show for the Ministry's hand in all this? THIRTY TWO PERCENT!" Cho pounded her fist on the dinner table, shaking the dishes.

"Ease up, mummy!"

"Sorry, but… Harry, you know Hermione has a first-rate mind. I was always surprised she wasn't Sorted into Ravenclaw. Well, now she has a chance to mix her brains with that Gryffindor valour. When are your copies getting here?"

"As soon as the owl brings them. I can make a copy for us and send Hermione the originals."

Within the hour, four owls arrived carrying two large boxes; more than a thousand sheets of paper.

To be continued in Chapter 5

Harry Potter and the Bare Witches Project

Chapter 5-THE DVA

Voldemort had done a lot of damage to the British wizarding world while he was in de facto control of the Ministry. Hundreds of families had been torn apart because of his quest for Pureblood supremacy.

Within an hour of sending the copies to Hermione, she emailed Cho. "I am STUNNED! These files are BRILLIANT! I wish I had these years ago! I'm not sure I can get through the whole lot by Friday."

Cho emailed back. "Contact us this time tomorrow night. We'll know how far we've gotten and how to prepare for Friday. Stay strong and carry on!"

Chinhua read the screen over Cho's shoulder. "Mummy, did you know Hermione was online?"

"Not until I saw a message on her desk from her brother-in-law Charlie; he's the dragon fancier, and seldom if ever gets back to England. After the Battle of Hogwarts Hermione, well, she rather insisted that the Weasleys get online to stay in touch. No offense to the owls, but they had to be able to reach each other quickly if something happened. And Charlie is usually in the field somewhere, for obvious reasons."

"So they've been cyber-witches all this time, too?"

Harry chuckled. "That's a funny way to think of it."

"But it's necessary, dear," Cho said. "The Wizarding world has always had to balance magic and Muggletech, as part of the Secrecy Statutes if nothing else. I'm sure Muggles would do the same if they had access to both technologies."

"You're saying magic is technology?"

"It's one way of getting things done, isn't it? We're luckier than Muggles because we can choose which one to use for any given task. Flitwick did a whole seminar on this in my Seventh Year. He said that, according to a Muggle named Clarke, any technology can be believed to be magic if you don't know how it works."

"That's a bit too deep for me," Harry said, rubbing his eyes. "Are you going to be up much longer?"

"It's been a long day for all of us, and the days are just going to get longer. Chinhua, we have to talk. I'll turn in right after that."

Harry said, "I can hardly wait…" but his words were cut off by a yawn.

"Yes, we can tell," Cho smiled; Chinhua giggled a bit. "We just need a minute; I promise."

#

That night, Harry had a curious dream. He and Cho were back in Hogwarts, alone on the Quidditch pitch. They were talking, but it became harder and harder to hear what Cho was saying to him, because students and faculty kept filling the stands as they spoke. The onlookers were conversing with each other, telling jokes, leading cheers—for what, Harry often couldn't tell—and getting louder and louder…

Just as Harry moved to kiss Cho, and the crowd in the stands was yelling "GO GO GRYFFINDOR! GO GO GRYFFINDOR!—"

Harry woke up.

The sun was already above the roofs of the nearby houses; it must have been nearly noon. Through the bedroom door he heard keyboards clattering and several conversations. Obviously Cho and Chinhua weren't alone. He quickly changed out of his pyjamas and went out.

It was an office, or a party, or a bit of both. A dozen people were either typing on computers, or sorting out papers, or taking notes.

"Half past top o' the morning!"

That was a greeting Harry hadn't heard in years. It came from Ernie Macmillan, a Hufflepuff from Harry's year in Hogwarts. He was an enthusiastic member of Dumbledore's Army, despite being from a Pureblood family, and fought bravely in the Battle of Hogwarts.

"Not much breakfast left," Ernie went on, "but you should be able to grab yourself a banger and toast."

"Thanks," Harry chuckled, as he went toward the kitchen.

"How you feeling, daddy?" Chinhua called out from the window, where an owl had just landed.

"Lots better," he said, and realized that he meant it. The cold had finally been knocked out, and he could join the others in whatever they were doing. In the kitchen he found Cho brewing about a gallon of green tea as if it was something she did every day.

"Feeling better, Harry?"

They kissed each other. "Much better, now. As if I never had that cold."

"Well, then, come and join the party."

Harry scooped the last sausage patty out of the skillet and onto a corner of toast, and followed Cho into the living room.

Almost every chair was occupied; the people were mostly of Chinhua's generation, balancing laptop computers on their knees if they couldn't make room on a table, while others were Harry's age. They were sorting through papers, making notes in the margins, and Levitating them to each other across the room.

Ernie was at the bay window talking with his son Michael, a longtime friend of Chinhua from Ravenclaw. He waved Harry over to them.

"Never seen anything like this in your life, eh Harry?"

"I expect he has, dad," Michael said, "and so have you. Isn't this what Dumbledore's Army looked like?"

Harry looked around and realized that, despite the mixing of magic and Muggletech, Michael was right. This was like Dumbledore's Army, because it was more than just a lesson or in this case research. It had a higher purpose, as Cho had said last night: wizards who had been cast out of the magical world had a chance to reclaim their identity; and their children might finally have a place to call home.

The only problem for Harry was that, ever since his eleventh birthday when Hagrid showed up, he had lived almost entirely in the wizarding world. It never occurred to him to try to keep a foot in both worlds. Yet now it seemed not only possible but necessary. He was no longer the teacher; he didn't know what to do to help nor how to do it, and he said as much to Ernie.

"Not to worry, Commander Potter. When the time comes, you'll know what to do; just like old times. We believe in you and the Army."

"Well, then, I'd better get to know the troops. Is there someone in charge of computers?"

"Follow me," Michael said.

He led Harry to a table just inside the front door of the apartment. Seated at the table was someone who made Harry think of himself. This young man had disordered hair that seemed to resist any attempt at being combed, and wire-rim glasses with old-fashioned rectangular lenses. He clicked away on a keyboard transcribing notes into a portable disc drive, using his cell phone as a monitor.

"Humbert—"

"Just a tick, Mick," the typist said in a broad Cockney accent; "don't want to lose me thought here." He went on typing, oblivious to the two men who had just joined him. After a minute, he pulled off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. "Ain't worked like that since me OWLs."

"Hope you can spare a minute. You haven't met our host—"

"No need to introduce me to Mister Harry Potter; an honour to shake the hand that shook the hand of Albus Dumbledore!"

"And this is Humbert Smyth-Snikket, recently out of Ravenclaw."

"So," Harry tried to think of something to say; "what have you been doing since Hogwarts?"

"Hardware sales and repair, mostly. Might not have the biggest shop in the East End, but I'll be the first to say it's the best. And the interest in computers in the community started growing by hounds even when I went to 'Ogwarts."

"Er, hounds?"

"Rhyming slang, Harry; for 'leaps and bounds.' He IS East End."

"And damn proud of it!"

"Yes, I can see," Harry said a bit nervously. But before he could say anything else Humbert spoke up again:

"So, what's the plan of attack?"

"Attack?"

"What are we doin' all this for if not to take it to the enemy? Show the flag…"

Cho stepped up beside Harry, having heard Humbert's remarks from across the room. "The first thing we need to do is defend Chinhua in front of the Wizengamot."

"So, what's the second thing?"

"That depends on how the first thing turns out. Overall, our goal is to show the Ministry their two mistakes. First, they went along with the Dark Lord and let him tear Wizarding families apart just because they weren't Pureblood. And second, they've done next to nothing to undo the damage since then."

Just then, a middle-aged Indian woman, in blue jeans and a Robotech t-shirt, brought a stack of papers and set them down next to Humbert. "Ready for seconds, dearie?"

"I am now, my lovely."

"Flatterer."

"Sara," Cho said to the woman, "you've met Harry, haven't you?"

"Just in passing; I was Second Year when the Battle happened and they evacuated us. Saw you fly for Gryffindor in your Sixth Year. You were good, but I still think our Cho was better."

"OUR Cho? You're Ravenclaw, then…"

"Yes," Cho interrupted. "Sara Anand was a few years behind me."

Sara impulsively hugged Harry; by the time she let go, he was more than a little flushed. "Thank you both for doing this," she said, waving her arm to include the whole apartment full of computers, owls and wizards. "This is our chance to keep Dumbledore's Army alive, isn't it?"

"That's what Cho was just saying…"

Humbert interrupted. "This case, more like Dumbledore's Virtual Army."

"I think the Ministry will find we're real enough. Harry, one minute."

She led him back into the kitchen, where she turned the flame off under the pot of tea.

"We're going to break soon, and get some food while the others get us caught up on what they've done so far. Then we'll know how best to proceed."

"You've done so much in such a short time…"

"We have to; if we do the wrong thing on Friday, or forget to do something important, our daughter could be sent to Azkaban. That would be bad at the best of times."

"At least now I can take some of it off of your shoulders."

"I know." They kissed. "And even if you were still sick, I know you'd try anyway."

Cho spelled the pot of tea onto a wheeled cart and pushed it out of the kitchen.

All afternoon people drifted in and occasionally out; between them and the owls, the flat was filled to the limit. They chatted during lunch, but not about this project; it seemed to Harry that they were talking about everything BUT the reason they were there. He tried to keep up with several conversations but got hopelessly lost and just decided to peck at some food when the talk turned to terabytes and micro-ISBs. After a while he gave it up and sat at the bay window.

"Sickle for your thoughts, daddy?" Chinhua said as she sat beside him.

"I think it's supposed to be a Knut."

"That's inflation for you." After a second her smile faded and her face grew more serious. "Sorry for putting you through so much with this."

"It's alright," Harry smiled and kissed her forehead. "Sometimes things like this happen and we have no choice. Just have to deal with it."

"Would you rather I'd never done it—put up the website, I mean?"

"I've been thinking about it, and I'm ashamed and proud."

"What does that mean?"

"Ashamed that it had to wait to be done until now; and proud that you're the one to do it."

Chinhua smiled and leaned her shoulder against Harry's. "There's a slogan for you: The Potter Family, Dragon Tickling Our Specialty."

"You weren't a terror at Hogwarts like me, were you?"

"Not quite like you," Cho said as she walked up to them. "The Ministry's going to be vexed enough as it is."

Harry smiled. "We both know sometimes they need vexing."

"Agreed, but let's not talk about that too much; at least, not until after the hearing."

To be continued in Chapter 6

Note: The "Clarke" Cho mentions is science fiction author Arthur C. Clarke. She was alluding to Clarke's Third Law: "Technology is magic to the uninitiated."

Sara Anand and Michael Macmillan are characters I created for my fanfic "Or Die Trying".

Harry Potter and the Bare Witches Project

Chapter 6-FIELDS OF GOLD

The crew working on what they just called "the Project" stayed through the afternoon. Cho fixed fried rice and greens for dinner, with Harry and Chinhua making a quick run for takeaway fried chicken. Then, just as they were about to start eating, there was a loud pounding on the door. Through the door a voice yelled "YOU GOT THE MINISTRY HERE!"

Harry jumped up, ran to the door and threw it open; he'd recognized the voice at once…

"RON!"

He hadn't seen either Ron Weasley or his wife Hermione for years, even though they'd been inseparable when they were at Hogwarts. The three of them hardly seemed to notice the time that had passed or the changes it had brought.

"Hermione's been bringing me up to speed, but I still don't know why you need all this Muggletech."

"Quick Quills couldn't do all this work in the two days left, Ron. In three years I've only been able to track down a few dozen families banished by You Know Who, and there's so many we've lost track of entirely."

"No wonder you look such a wreck when you get home; why haven't you said something?"

"Because I've suspected it all along and this just confirms it: when it comes to the exiled wizards, the Ministry is hopeless and my job is a sham. I mean, if we're able to break through and get results, we'll have restored so many families and relieved so much suffering."

"Sounds like we're back to SPEW again, eh?"

"Back to what?" Chinhua had walked up and was listening to the conversation. "You on about votes for witches?"

"Erm, excuse me?"

"A hundred years ago the Muggles were still trying to get votes for women. They had a group called the Social and Political Union. Some know-alls dismissed it as SPEW, but women got the vote."

Harry interrupted. "Ron, Hermione, I don't think you've met the instigator of all this. Meet Chinhua Chang. Chinhua, these are two of my oldest and closest friends…"

"Ron and Hermione Weasley," Chinhua interrupted. "We've all heard a lot about you two."

Cho joined them; "And after Friday, maybe we'll be hearing a lot more of her, one way or the other. We're just about to start dinner, but I'm afraid chairs are at a premium."

They ended up at a card table with Ernie Macmillan and his son Michael, and they talked about Hogwarts and what they'd done after; hardly anything about the Diaspora Project. From then on, the gathering was more like a party; the business of researching wizarding world refugees was mostly put aside for several hours. Some of the younger people kept working at their computers, as if they were close to the end of a very important project and couldn't stop now.

A few hours after dinner, and a few impromptu musical numbers by Chinhua and Michael Macmillan, people started drifting home. Hermione said that she and Ron would be at the Wizengamot hearing on Friday, even though Harry didn't remember asking them to be there. With the crowd out of the empty flat, Harry Potter stretched.

"I hope we're almost done."

"Just about, dear. Some of the technical people have some data entry to finish, but most of the other data are already collated and ready for Friday."

"Do you really think all of this will change minds on the Wizengamot? I mean, the Minister is a good man…"

"No need to tell us, daddy; you've spoken of him often enough. But there are so many others we need to convince…"

"And convince them we shall, but not tonight nor tomorrow. We have time to accomplish other things."

"Can I know what they are?"

"Let it be a surprise, Harry. Everyone off to their own beds."

#

When Harry and Cho woke up Thursday, it seems like a Sunday; occasional noises drifted in the window from the street below. They had a leisurely breakfast and the dishes were cleared away before Harry asked: "NOW can I have a clue?"

"Just dress in your best and be ready to go at one. It starts at half-past."

"What starts?"

"You'll see," Chinhua smiled, going into the kitchen to put up the dishes.

Harry's "best" was a suit he'd inherited from Arthur Weasley; he'd needed it for the installation of Kingsley Shacklebolt as Minister of Magic; that was decades ago, but it still fit. Cho and Chinhua dressed in identical cheongsams: black Chinese dresses with high collars and red patterns. Chinhua also had a rather large purse.

They hailed a Muggle taxicab and Chinhua gave the driver an address in the neighborhood of the Balham High Road. They arrived at a small church; the sign proclaimed it to be a Spiritualist church, and declared that a drum circle would be held that evening.

The chapel was small but cozy. Harry had never been here before, and looked at Chinhua for information.

"Just stay put until I tell you," she smiled.

That's when it hit Harry. It's finally happening.

Just then, Cho's parents arrived. They ran an herb shop and apothecary in Diagon Alley, selling cures and ingredients for wizards and witches. They exchanged quick greetings with Harry and Chinhua, then took seats near the altar.

After a word with the deacon and handing him an envelope, Chinhua pulled from the bag an mp3 player with speakers attached. She turned it on, and the chapel filled with familiar music:

"You'll remember me when the west wind moves upon the fields of barley  
You'll forget the sun in his jealous sky as we walk in fields of gold."

Harry was in Hogwarts when he first heard Sting's song; the year was 1993, when he would first set eyes on Cho Chang. Cho must have told Chinhua about it…

"Go, daddy," Chinhua whispered.

There was really no place to go except up to the makeshift altar. He walked rather slowly, drinking in the music, and observing details of the chapel.

"Will you stay with me, will you be my love among the fields of barley?  
We'll forget the sun in his jealous sky as we lie in fields of gold."

Chinhua gave a gesture, and Cho walked toward the altar. She was still wearing the black cheongsam, but also a sheer white veil over her head and face. Harry had no idea how Muggles had started this tradition, but he thought that Cho had never looked lovelier.

"I never made promises lightly and there have been some that I've broken  
But I swear in the days still left we'll walk in fields of gold."

The pastor of the church stepped up but Harry didn't notice him at all; he only had eyes for Cho. He felt thirteen again, facing a Ravenclaw Seeker who was exceedingly pretty.

When she arrived at the altar, Chinhua stopped the music. Cho lifted her veil, and Harry's heart melted. He hadn't thought it possible to love Cho more than he did at this moment.

It was a standard civil ceremony, until the pastor asked them if they had anything to say to each other. Cho spoke first:

"Harry, you already know everything I want to tell you. We met at boarding school, and I'd heard a lot about you. But what I'd heard about you was such a small part of who you were; just a grain of sand. You were skilled, and clever, and brave, and loyal, and I started loving you then. I know for a time I got a little lost; we all do at times. But we found each other, again and again. I don't want us to lose each other; I don't want us to be apart from each other. Ever again."

Harry just stared into Cho's eyes; he didn't realize it was his turn to speak until Cho squeezed his hands with hers. It took him a minute to find words.

"It's… I'm amazed at how much alike we really are. Although we didn't meet too soon, we got to know each other, and it felt… it felt like flying. You know what I mean?" Cho nodded, smiling radiantly. "For a while I thought I was in a river of time, and it was strong enough to carry me away, but it never carried me away from you. A lot of things have happened, but, whatever else happened, you were always part of my life. And now you will be part of my life for the rest of my life, Chang Cho Li. I love you."

"Wo ai ni, Harry Potter."

Cho's father sniffled.

When the service was over, Cho's parents came up and hugged her, then hugged Harry, then Chinhua hugged everyone. Hugs all around.

The Changs had hired a hansom cab to take them all to Diagon Alley, where they gave a dinner in honour of the bride and groom. It was an evening of laughter and tears, of questions and answers; just like any wedding.

Cho was glad to be able to bring Harry to meet her parents finally as her husband. She didn't have to do it; she could have just lived with Harry and sorted out any problems when the time came. But Chinhua and her website forced the question.

To be continued in Chapter 7

Harry Potter and the Bare Witches Project

Chapter 7-THE-WIZENGAMOT

In the morning, they woke up, cleaned up, dressed in what they wore to the chapel the previous day, and had a light breakfast. None of them knew exactly what might happen with the Wizengamot, but they had spent time earlier in the week bringing each other up to scratch on what Chinhua's website and the Diaspora Project was all about; each felt they could answer any question that was asked. Since only one of them could be on the stand testifying at a time, they couldn't confer with each other once the hearing was underway.

They flagged down a cab which took them to Whitehall, then went to the phone box Harry and Arthur Weasley had used to enter the Ministry years ago, after Harry had rescued Dudley from the Dementors. He had used this telephone box many times since then, and dialed the number 6-2-4-4-2; at once a disembodied voice answered.

"Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. Please state your name and business."

Harry pointed at Chinhua.

"Chinhua Chang, and parents. I was summoned for a disciplinary hearing this morning at nine."

"Thank you," the voice said. "Please attach the visitor badges to the front of your robes."

None of them wore robes, but they took the badges which were stamped "Visitor" and pinned them to their clothes. As they did, the floor of the telephone box sank down below street level until it settled onto the floor of the Atrium: the main floor of the Ministry of Magic.

At the other end of the long hall was the Security desk. They each had to present their wands, which were then weighed and examined. The machine that weighed them also printed out the specifications of their wands as well as their owners' names.

"As if the wands are more important than we are," Chinhua muttered under her breath.

"Maybe you can do a website about that next time," Cho smiled.

The security wizard at the desk read Harry's name, then did a double-take. "This says that you're—"

"Yeh," Harry said, "I get that a lot." He and the ladies quickly went to the row of elevators.

They entered an empty car, and were immediately joined by three witches before the door closed. Harry pressed the button for the 9th level.

"Didn't you say the hearing would be on Level 10?" Chinhua asked.

"The elevators don't go farther than Level 9. I've had to do this before; don't worry."

The witches got off at Level 5; International Magic Cooperation offices. After that, they were alone until they got to Level 9.

The door opened on a corridor with no doors and very dim lighting.

"Follow me," Harry said. He walked them down the corridor to a door at the far end; however, when they got near to the door, he pointed to the left, where there was an alcove and a staircase leading down.

"What's all this, then?" Chinhua asked as the descended the stairs.

"Security measure, I expect. They want to remind people how serious this is."

"I think it's working," Cho muttered.

"Don't worry," Harry said, taking Cho's hand in his own.

"The one at the end; right, daddy?"

"Let's find out."

Chinhua turned the knob on the door at the end of the corridor; it opened soundlessly, and the three of them went inside.

It was all as Harry had remembered when he saw it the first time. Only a few dozen witches and wizards were in the rows of seats at the far end of the room. There was very little lighting, and the wizards, who were apparently to be jury as well as spectators, were mostly in shadow.

"Could we get a bit more light in here?" Chinhua blurted out.

A very deep voice answered: "I've often wondered about that myself."

Harry recognized the voice and almost fainted from relief. No less than the Minister of Magic for the past three decades, Kingsley Shacklebolt, would be presiding. While most wizards and witches would have had very little opportunity to cross the Minister's path, Harry had gotten to know him as a member of the Order of the Phoenix years ago. Harry knew Minister Shacklebolt was an imposing wizard, but highly fair-minded and committed to justice. Harry started to whisper, "It's going to be fine…"

But Minister Shacklebolt interrupted. "The witness will take the seat." He gestured toward a chair, and Chinhua sat in it without hesitation.

"Disciplinary hearing into multiple offenses committed under the International Statutes of Secrecy by Chinhua Chang and other witches and wizards unknown, in cooperation with various Muggles unknown, for a period of two months, although this too is uncertain." Shacklebolt looked at the wizards sitting on either side of him, then back at Chinhua. "You've been a busy little girl, haven't you?"

"Keeps the boredom away," Chinhua said with a saucy grin.

Harry winced; he didn't dare look at Cho.

"Do you consider that a proper answer?"

"You didn't ask a proper question."

Harry was about to jump up to try to appeal to Kingsley; instead Kingsley let out a deep, loud laugh.

"Guilty as charged, Miss Chang. I apologize for that. Now, let's go back to the beginning. You went on the Internet and created documents they call 'web pages', correct?"

"Correct, sir."

"And on these pages you described the Wizarding World, its activities, its powers, and so forth. Correct?"

"Correct."

"And what was the purpose of all this?"

"We, my friends and I, were looking specifically for Muggles who could do magic."

The wizard seated to Kingsley's left spoke up: "But, child, by definition a Muggle cannot do magic, correct?"

Chinhua immediately responded: "And by definition, anyone who CAN do magic is NOT a Muggle! Isn't THAT correct?"

"This is nonsense; either you're a Muggle or you're not! Weren't you just larking about on this Internet thingie?"

"This wasn't larking about! We were working toward a very serious purpose, to correct mistakes made before my friends and I were even born!"

"And what mistakes were those?"

"Mistakes made when the Ministry was under the control of Voldemort."

There were gasps and shrieks from the unseen wizards and witches. Kingsley raised his hand to silence them.

"And precisely what mistakes might that be?"

"The banishment of hundreds of wizards and witches for no other reason than blood prejudice!"

That set off another round of gasps and shrieks. The witch seated to Kingsley's right asked the next question: "How can you be certain of events that happened before you were born?"

"Because I've read historical records. Because I've spoken to people like yourselves who were alive in those days, who remembered what happened."

"Would that include your mother?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"The accused may step down so that her mother may take the stand."

Harry and Cho exchanged looks. Cho sucked in her lower lip, then nodded her head to Harry, stood up and took the stand.

Kingsley said, "Please state your full name."

"Cho Li Chang. Potter."

The gasps and shrieks turned to shouts and exclamations. Cho simply sat there with a serene smile.

Kingsley was also at a loss for words for a minute, eventually asking: "When did this happen?"

"Yesterday, actually."

"And why did this happen?"

"Because on that day Ginevra Weasley Potter's divorce from Harry Potter became official."

There was a choking sound in the gallery; Harry was sure he recognized it as Ginny.

"No offense, Mrs. Potter, but aren't you a little too mature for such an escapade?"

"No offense, Minister Shacklebolt, but why is my maturity a factor in the accusations against my daughter?"

"We seem to be getting off the path here. The issue was events alleged to have happened while the Dark Lord had taken control of the Ministry."

"I remember those events very well, as I'm sure all members of the Wizengamot recall those days who lived through them."

"Memory is a funny thing. It can be modified, as you know."

"I assure you that my memory has not been modified."

"Are you an Auror, Mrs. Potter?"

"No."

"Have you received training in Occlumency, in order to preserve your mind from being modified?"

"I have not."

"BUT I HAVE!"

Harry was on his feet, and soon most of the Wizengamot were on their feet as well. The shouting went on much longer and louder this time.

Minister Shacklebolt waved everyone to silence, then heaved a sigh. "I was wondering when we'd hear from you. Mister Potter. You may take the stand in place of your wife; by the way, congratulations."

Harry rushed to the chair, and he and Cho clutched each other's hands before she sat beside Chinhua.

Shacklebolt seemed almost amused. "Forgive a question to which I already know the answer, but who trained you in Legilimency and its defenses?"

"I was trained by Hogwarts Professor Severus Snape."

"In his capacity as a teacher?"

"No, in his capacity as a member of the Order of the Phoenix."

"Was this training intended to be a defense against memory modification brought about by He Who Must Not Be Named?"

"Yes, Minister."

"I hold this witness to be qualified. Now; were you also involved with the creation of the web site in question?"

"Erm, no, I was not."

"Then how can your testimony be relevant to these proceedings?"

"Because I became involved in the proceedings at the time."

"Could you be more specific?"

"I…" He wasn't sure if he should go on, but decided he had no choice. "I committed a fraud in front of the Wizengamot during the Voldemort regime."

Again the room filled with shouts and screams.

"ORDER!" Shacklebolt pounded his gavel. "Mister Potter, what was the nature of this fraud?"

"A wizard's wife had been hauled before this court on charges of being Muggle-born. I tried to set her free."

"And how was that done?"

"I took Polyjuice potion to appear at the hearing."

"Who did you impersonate?"

"I was a Death Eater named Albert Runcorn. Ron Weasley posed as a Magical Maintenance wizard named Reginald Cattermole."

"AND I IMPERSONATED HIS WIFE!"

The uproar got even louder as Hermione Weasley left the stands and stood before Minister Shacklebolt.

"Mister Minister!" the wizard next to Shacklebolt shouted; "you know that you cannot corroborate any of this!"

"Of course you can!" Hermione shouted. "Let Harry testify! Let ME testify!"

Shacklebolt brought the gavel down loudly and repeatedly, until the room grew quiet. "Inasmuch as we have entered a topic where the evidence is classified, I must hear testimony in chambers. I will need to hear from the following: Chinhua Chang, Cho Chang Potter, Harry Potter, and Hermione Weasley. The Wizengamot is in recess until further notice. You four, follow me." With that, Shacklebolt got up and crossed the floor of the chamber to a side door. He went through it, leaving it open for the other witnesses. After exchanging glances, the four walked through the door, which closed behind them.

To be continued in chapter 8

Harry Potter and the Bare Witches Project

Chapter 8-BROUGHT TO LIGHT

They had entered a small conference room. It held a circular table with just enough room for five people. The walls were covered with tapestries and what looked like windows, even though they were far underground.

Minister of Magic Kingsley Shacklebolt had already taken a chair at the table. "Before we formally recommence the proceedings, we can get some pleasantries out of the way. Miss Chang, I believe the last time I saw you was at the dedication of the new version of the Hogwarts Express. You and your friend Michael Macmillan performed some excellent train-related songs. It was a fine program and a fitting tribute to Filius Flitwick."

"He was an inspiration to all of Hogwarts, but especially those of us Sorted into Ravenclaw. He will be missed."

"He will indeed. Missus Potter, congratulations on your successful career as a Seeker for Tutshill. I've seen you perform on occasion and you earned your reputation."

"Thank you, Mister Minister."

"Missus Weasley, as a Ministry employee, you must know that I cannot proceed without asking you directly when you received any of the information collected by Miss Chang's web pages."

"I learned of its existence three days ago, from Cho… erm, Missus Potter. I did not see any of the data until late that night, when several owls delivered hundreds of pages of documents to me. Since then, I have spent time going over the documents and collating information with files given to me by the Ministry a few years ago."

"Are any of Miss Chang's documents in your office in the Department of Care of Magical Creatures?"

"I think you know that they are not."

"You're right to think that." Finally Kingsley turned to Harry Potter. "Do you have any more surprises for us, Harry?"

"I didn't find out about Chinhua's web site until Monday, when we received notice of this hearing. But, the more I think of it, and the more I speak to others about it, the more convinced I am that Chinhua did a right and necessary thing."

"And if you want to hold me responsible," Chinhua interrupted, "for trying to force the Ministry to recognize the decades-old crimes against witches and wizards, robbing them of their humanity two times—once by depriving them of their rights and again by burying them in your bureaucracy-then all I have to say is that I would prefer a cell in Azkaban with an eastern exposure, because I rather like sunrises!"

Everyone, including Minister Shacklebolt, stared at Chinhua after her outburst. Cho reached out a hand and held Chinhua's hand in her own; Harry did the same.

"Serves me right for asking about surprises. Miss Chang, what makes you so sure that your 'project' is as right and necessary as your father just stated?"

"The Ministry of Magic is divided into seven administrative parts," she began, as if giving a lecture, ticking them off on her fingers. "There's Magical Law Enforcement, Magical Accidents and Catastrophes, Magical Transportation, the Department of Mysteries, Magical Games and Sports, International Magical Cooperation, and Care of Magical Creatures. Which among these seven departments exists to right the sort of wrongs that were done when Voldemort was in control? How can wizards and witches look to Magical Law Enforcement to enforce decisions made on the basis of blood prejudice, or other improper reasons, by those at the top level of the Ministry? Why does justice seem to be an afterthought?"

Minister Shacklebolt took a long pause. "Miss Chang, you have put your finger directly on a problem which has stymied the Wizarding World in its search for justice over the centuries. I say this not as an excuse, but to remind everyone here that the Wizengamot has been charged with sorting out these very problems.

"Now, what I am about to tell you is Top Secret, and it absolutely must not leave this room. Do you all understand?" The other four nodded.

"There was indeed a perversion of the law while the Dark Lord was in charge of the Ministry. Many were arrested and charged with blood crimes. Far too many were imprisoned in Azkaban, or occasionally executed. Those who escaped were for the most part neither chased nor charged; if the Dark Lord thought of them at all, he considered them well away. Of course, there were followers of his who decided to take the opportunity to settle scores or curry favour. An unknown number of witches and wizards were either killed or went missing.

"Contrary to what you may think of us, Miss Chang, the Ministry did try to keep accurate records of all those who were wrongly tried for blood crimes. From the very day the Dark Lord came to power over the bones of Minister Scrimgeour, there were civil servants in the Ministry who recognized the illegitimate coup for what it was, and kept those records as possible evidence if and when sanity returned to the higher realms of the Ministry. However, the Dark Lord had followers as well, very few of whom had any kind of scruples beyond preserving the Dark Lord's person and power. We realized while the Dark Lord lived that the Ministry could be torn apart by a kind of vicious violence not seen since the days of Cromwell."

Harry spoke, very softly: "And what happened when he was no longer living?"

There was a minute of silence. Then, remarkably, Minister Kingsley Shacklebolt rose from his chair, walked over to Harry, then went down on one knee, his head bowed.

"I ask your forgiveness, Harry James Potter, slayer of Thomas Marvolo Riddle, who styled himself Lord Voldemort. I ask forgiveness because you liberated the Wizarding World, and we responded by doing nothing; none of the planned redemptions and resurrections we swore to achieve when the Dark Lord was finally overthrown. We took small steps, knowing that we were still helping the lives of wizards and witches to return to normalcy. We did many of the things we could do, but not enough of the things we needed to do."

"Forgive the interruption, Minister, but did you just admit to keeping proper records of wrongly punished wizards and witches?"

"Yes, Missus Weasley; the very records you needed were kept from you for years, mostly due to the fear of exposure of those who cooperated with the Dark Lord. I promise you that all of those records will be turned over to you before close of business today."

"And what of those who cooperated?" Cho asked.

"Thanks to our cowardice, we were reluctant to put them on trial. Some have died a natural death, while others have, as they say, 'scarpered' with the fall of the Dark Lord. Those of us who regained control of the Ministry decided against using show trials to avenge other show trials. It was a bad bargain, but at the time it seemed to be the only one we could make."

The room went silent for a minute, as they pondered the Ministry's dilemma.

All at once, Minister Shacklebolt rose to his feet and returned to his chair. "Well, then; to quote the Muggle Bard, 'what's past is prologue, what's to come in your and my discharge.' Perhaps it was no accident that Miss Chang forced the Ministry's hand in this area at this time. And it was certainly no accident that I needed to speak to your four in chambers.

"Miss Chang, I know that you had no part in the Wizengamot's decision to redesign the Hogwarts Express; you merely gave a concert to celebrate its reincarnation. But I will keep that event in mind when I return to the Wizengamot after our business is through here, where we can come to a final decision on your web pages. I can say that, whether they are returned to the web or not, they do not in my opinion violate the Secrecy Statutes since they were intended for a wizarding audience, and were posted in the interest of justice for our kind."

Chinhua had been holding her breath, and let it all out at once. "Woh! I mean, thank you Minister."

"You may want to think twice about that photograph. Of course, given some of the rubbish I've seen online…

"Anyway. Your point about the Ministry's various departments is well taken. Certainly, the interests of justice are not always served in the punitive environment of the Wizengamot. But that would be a decision to be made by the head of Magical Law Enforcement. As you know, we've only had a handful of heads worthy of the name since Corban Yaxley was installed by the Dark Lord. We need someone who is committed to following the rules laid down by the Ministry, someone who won't take matters into their own hand and won't settle personal grudges. Above all, we need someone with the ability to balance enforcement with justice, as Miss Chang so eloquently reminded us."

Shacklebolt turned in his seat. "Harry James Potter, would you consider the position as Head of Magical Law Enforcement?"

Cho covered her mouth with both hands and Chinhua gave a short squeak.

"I… I… I used to be an Auror once, but…"

"I am hoping that time has tempered your aggressive though exemplary conduct as an Auror with the maturity to learn from your past."

Harry's ears were ringing; he blushed profoundly as his wife and daughter stared at him. Finally, he bowed his head and said, "I would be honoured to serve, Minister."

"Excellent. I will begin that process later today. By the way, Harry, I trust you've gained enough maturity to turn without hesitation to your wife and daughter for advice when it is needed. Their sense of humanity and fair play has been very instructive to an old badger like myself today."

Again, Harry reached out to Cho and Chinhua. "I'd never hear the end of it if I didn't," he grinned.

Minister Shacklebolt leaned back in his chair. "I don't see enough happy endings these days, and I hope to see one more. I've been Minister for three decades, and, as the saying goes, I'm getting too old for this. Hermione Weasley, I know that you have a lot on your plate right now, with the classified records you'll be receiving; you may want to think in terms of hiring on an assistant to help collate our records with your own. Miss Chang might make a suitable helper."

Before Hermione could answer, Chinhua piped up: "And if we need more hands, there's always Dumbledore's Virtual Army!"

Shacklebolt stared for a minute, then chuckled: "Perhaps I'd better not ask. Anyway, Hermione, once that task is wrapped up to your satisfaction, I have a favour to ask."

"Of course."

"Don't be too quick. This isn't an ordinary favour."

"What, then?"

"I want you to take my chair."

The room grew silent as they realized what Kingsley was asking. The silence stretched on for a full minute.

"That's… I… Minister, I'm a Muggle-born! I don't have wizarding roots! My parents were DENTISTS!"

"And yet here you are, one of the brightest students ever to come out of Hogwarts! Yes, you are five generations removed from the only trace of magic in your family tree, and yet here you are, as talented a witch as I've ever met. You worked with Harry in Magical Law Enforcement when he was an Auror; you have been working in Care of Magical Creatures. Your talent is beyond question, especially by the Weasley family which has taken you as one of their own. You understood the need for the remaking of the Hogwarts Express; you got online with witches and wizards half your age. We need a new kind of Minister for a new kind of century, and you can see that far more clearly than my tired old eyes ever could."

They all stared at Hermione as she looked down at her hands, almost shivering. Finally, she looked up.

"I'll have to ask Ron first."

"Come off it, Hermione," Harry said, a wide grin on his face. "You're more used to giving orders than asking permission."

"THAT'S NOT TRUE!"

"Says the girl who started Dumbledore's Army," Cho smiled. "The girl who crusaded for house-elves rights."

"CHO!"

"Better get used to it, Hermione; you're a perfect fit," Chinhua said.

"And if you ever do need help, you have plenty of places to find it," Shacklebolt added.

Hermione looked down at her lap, her face turning crimson but smiling through tears. Finally she looked up and said, "Please don't make any kind of announcement until tomorrow?"

"Can we tell George?" Harry smiled. "I'm sure he'd love to print it up as a gag newspaper."

"I'm sure he would."

NOTE: The offices to be given to Harry and Hermione reflect events in JK Rowling's stage-play, "Harry Potter and the Cursed Child". She has a different time-line, but the results are the same.

The quote from "the Muggle Bard" is from Shakespeare's "Julius Caesar".

Any resemblance between the events mentioned in "Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows" about the "Dark Lord's Diaspora" and the current policies of the United States Government in splitting up refugee families, deporting the adults while imprisoning their children and keeping them incommunicado… is entirely intentional.

October 14, 2018


End file.
